Between Friends: A Writing Project
by Melissa Motown
Summary: 5 friends. 1 Prompt. 3 Days. 500 words - A writing project between GleekMom, Different Child, MuseInMe3, MelissaMotown, FicDirectory and pionaskateboard. Each chapter is a one-shot from a different week's prompt.
1. Chapter 1

This is a project, that I have loved from the moment I read about it - and I have been given permission to be a part of the challenge and I'm so grateful for that :-).

Every Monday one from the group comes up with a prompt and on Wednesday every member posts a one-shot story delevoped from the prompt.

So if you guys wanna follow the process, please put this new story on alert and check out all the contributions by alerting StarGleekBelle, GleekMom, Different Child and momaboutown as well.

Because of the one-shots, each chapter will have new characters and settings. But if any of the chapters calls for more, maybe a new story will grow out of it.

The biggest challenge is to stay close to 500 words. That's why the chapters will only be a glimpse of something, instead of a lot of back ground stories and build up.

This is my contribution to the first prompt, but I have to admit, that I failed at one part of the challenge. Lauren and Puck were not exactly best friends before they fell in love, but I love them too much to change that now :-)

I hope you enjoy it - and as always, please review - it's my new dope ;-)

* * *

**The exact moments that two best friends fell in love.**

"Lauren Zizes, you kick ass like no other girl I've ever dated!" Puck looked admiring at Lauren, as she packed her bag after wrestling practice.

"Well, that's because you always dated the skinny obnoxious losers Puckerman, so no wonder!" Lauren's ability to rough it up verbally was always followed by a gentle spark in her eyes, when she was talking to Puck - an unfortunate side effect of being in love with him, if you asked Lauren.

Puck smiled and dragged her closer, "I'm taking you on a date tonight so hurry up Zizes."

She stole a quick kiss from him and said, "It better be good Puck." Then she hit the shower and joined boyfriend again 20 minutes later, tucking her hand under his arm as they walked to the parking lot. "So where are you taking me tonight Mr. P?"

A smirk appeared around Puck's lips. "I have been cleaning a pool at this high class house today, where I know for a fact, that nobody's home tonight. We could just cuddle by the pool and look at the stars. I've brought a blanket." He waited with anticipation for Lauren's response.

"Ooh – so you wanna break the law with me?" Lauren sighed happily, "you're so my kind of guy."

* * *

As they arrived on the upper side of Lima, they tip toed into the property, trying to prevent the neighbourhood dogs from revealing them. Puck moved two of the lounge chairs from the pool close to each other and as they sat down he tucked the blanket around both of them, getting really close to Lauren, cuddling. They shared a lollipop looking up on the stars, talking, laughing and kissing.

"Lauren."

"Mm.."

"Do you think I'm a Lima loser?"

"No way!" Lauren turned her head so she could look Puck in the eyes, "Wait a minute, who has told you that you're a Lima Loser?"

"No one in particular." Puck suddenly got very busy studying the stars.

"You're good at a lot of things Puck, but you're a lousy liar!"

Puck sighed, "Quinn sometimes called me a Lima Loser."

Now Lauren got up on her one elbow, "I will never understand why you were into her!" She ran her fingers through his mohawk. "Listen to me Noah … don't ever let anybody call you a loser, cause you are anything but that. Don't question your abilities to make something good with your life."

Moments like these were rare with Lauren, but Puck had never second-guessed her heart. He felt the weight on his shoulder lift for a while and a ridiculously happy smile was fighting its way to his face.

"What?" Lauren laughed now and punched his arm.

Puck started laughing too, "Do you know when I fell in love with you Lauren?"

"No, but I'm sure you're dying to tell me." Her sarcasm had found its way back in her voice.

"When you pulled me out of that disgusting transportable toilet."

"You smelled like shit Puck, I don't even know why I bothered at that time." She was lying down again next to him again, resting her head on his shoulder. "Do you wanna know when I fell in love with you Noah?"

"Mm.."

"When I had to fight Santana to get you."

"I should have guessed that baby … you're my badass girlfriend."

She kissed him again and let the stars take them miles away from Lima, Ohio.

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I don't own anything Glee related - all I have is my buzzing imagination!


	2. Chapter 2

So this is my contribution to the second prompt, given to us by momaboutown. Check out all the contributions by StarGleekBelle, GleekMom, Different Child and momaboutown as well.

I hope you enjoy it - and as always, please review - it's my new dope ;-)

**Most memorable/meaningful summerfling**

"Hi ... I couldn't help overhearing … are you from Lima, Ohio?"

Tina looked with badly hidden surprise at the dark haired guy standing in front of her. Boys normally didn't approach her because of the "goth look" and for so many reasons that was a part of her plan. It was easier not to talk to people, than to search franticly for words to say. "Yeah, I'm from L-l-lima." Tina knew she would come across as insecure and normally people stopped talking to her when she pulled the stutter trick, but this one didn't seem to care.

"Well, in that case I better introduce myself." The boy gave her a big smile and brushed the sand off of his hands, "I'm Nick and I'm from Lima too. I'm here on vacation with my family. They've always wanted to come to Portugal, so here we are." To Tina's regret he sat down on the chair next to her and looked enthusiasticly out on the ocean. "Where do you go to school?" His eyes looked curious and he didn't seem to tease her.

She cleared her voice " … um, I will be starting on McKinley b-by the end of the summer."

"Oh, I have friends there."

"Is it nice? I haven't heard so m-much about it." Tina braved up and looked back at him as she asked the question.

"Yeah … sure … I think it's … okay." For the first time he looked a bit troubled.

Tina started to relax and gave him a quick smile, "You're a bad liar … just so you know."

He laughed, "Sorry - I'm attending a private school, Dalton Academy, so to tell you the truth, I don't really know that much about McKinley."

"Well maybe I will go to Dalton as well then," Tina said, trying to impress him and looking all important. But it didn't impress Nick at all, he just started giggling instead. She felt the blush right away and regretted, as usual, that she had ever started talking to him in the first place.

"Dalton Academy is an all boy school," Nick said and winked at her, "but you're welcome if you're still interested."

Tina hid her face beneath her hair. "Gosh, I'm so st-stupid", she murmured.

Nick brushed the hair away from her face, "You're not stupid. How could you know?" She didn't have enough courage to look him in the eyes again, but she decided to forgive him. "Look, can I ask you a very, very personal question?" he said.

"I guess you can, but the chances of me answering it, is very small."

Nick smiled and shook his head a bit, "Okay, here it comes … are you ready?"

Tina rolled her eyes, "Are you gonna ask the question or not?"

"Do you sing?"

Tina was taken aback by his question and forgot all her defensive guards. "Why, do you ask?"

Nick bit his lip and looked thoughtful for a moment, "I've just heard, that people who stutter, don't stutter when they sing."

"Um … okay." Tina suddenly felt ashamed of herself. The stutter thing had become such a bad habit and apparently he was just trying to help her.

"When you start at McKinley you could check out if they have some sort of "Glee-club" or a choir. We have one at Daltons, and believe me, the popularity goes with those who can sing."

"Really?"

"Yep." Nick got up and started to take his shirt off.

"What are you doing?" Tina looked embarrassed around.

"I'm gonna take a dip in the ocean, silly. Are you coming?" He tilted his head a bit and reached out for her hand. She hesitated for a moment, but then she decided to take a chance and receive what he offered.

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I don't own anything Glee related - all I have is my buzzing imagination!


	3. Chapter 3

This prompt was given to us by GleekMom. We were presented with a picture of Blaine looking into a mirror and the following text: Blaine can barely look at himself in the mirror, but what's behind the door shocks him to the core.

This story deserves more than the 1.000 words I barely edited it down to. So this could be something I would like to continue and make to a story of it's own.

In this oneshot we meet Blaine before he transfers to Dalton Academy, that's pretty much all you need to know :-).

Check out all the contributions by StarGleekBelle, GleekMom, Different Child and momaboutown as well.

* * *

Blaine had hurried home after school. Everything was silent in the house. His parents were working and Cooper had an audition in town this afternoon, which was perfect. The last thing he needed right now, was for Cooper being nosy.

He ran upstairs to his room, threw his bag in the corner and looked franticly around. Everything had to be perfect. He opened a window and made the bed. He even considered spraying cologne in the room, but decided that was overdoing it after all.

He went to the bathroom which was directly connected to the bedroom and checked the reflection in the mirror. He definitely had to change the shirt. He hurried to the closet and picked out a blue slim t-shirt with short sleeves. That one always made him look good.

When the doorbell rang Blaine hurried to open the door and outside was Matt … looking dashing and handsome and somehow less intimidating outside school premises. Maybe his dreams would come true after all, Blaine thought as he led Matt to his room.

Matt was a junior and on the football team. He was tall and blond and had a smile that made Blaine's heart beat right out of his chest. But with Blaine being a freshman and not athletic in any way, Matt had never looked at him twice - which was fair enough. High School rules after all.

Then everything had changed.

Between second and third period, Matt had suddenly approached him in the hallway. Blaine usually watched the football team practice, because he really liked football … and because he liked Matt; and apparently Matt had noticed that. Then out of nowhere Matt had asked if he could come over after school, so they could hang out. Blaine had barely managed to give a positive response, before the blush shot right up to his cheeks. Then Matt had disappeared in the crowd, leaving Blaine with a beating heart.

Matt looked around in the room, studied the fotographs on the shelf and the posters on the wall - a mix of great musicians and legendary football players. Matt shrugged a bit indifferent, "It's kind of nice." Then he pointed to the piano, "Do you play?"

"Yes", Blaine said, "and I sing too, I wanna be an entertainer." He watched every move Matt did, trying to comprehend that the beautiful boy was at his home.

"So will you sing a song for me?" Matt asked and winked.

At any given time that would have been a dream scenario for Blaine, to sing a love song to somebody he had a crush on - but suddenly it felt weird and even wrong. He would never be able to sing to anybody without feeling completely safe. "I'd rather not do that right now", Blaine mumbled, "Maybe some other time."

Matt tilted his head and locked on Blaine's eyes before moving closer … much closer. Then he lowered his voice, "Blaine Anderson … have you ever kissed another guy before?"

Blaine's brain shut down and what felt like pure instinct took over. "No", he answered with a rough voice.

"Would you like to try?" Matt stepped even closer and Blaine's legs threatened to give in as he only managed to nod slightly.

"I thought so", Matt whispered before closing the gap between their lips.

The kiss was warm and wet … and suddenly a bit pushy and when Matt pulled away again, Blaine felt that something was off. He looked at Matt, who out of nowhere had a satisfied expression on his face. "Well Blaine", he said, "I have just won a bet."

The blood was drained from Blaine's head as he slowly sat down on the bed. He closed his eyes and didn't have the nerve to look at Matt. "What bet exactly?", he asked.

"I told my friends on the football team that you were gay, but they didn't really believe me. So I told them I could get you to kiss me."

Blaine moved back in the bed, pulled up his legs and held tight on to his knees. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known that something was wrong.

"Hey", Matt said with a touch of guilt in his voice, "don't take it like that. It's just a stupid bet." He got up and hesitated for a moment. "We can split the money you know … after all you're not a bad kisser!" Then he disappeared out of the room.

Blaine sat numb for a while and then he went to the bathroom. He had never been this humiliated in his entire life. With angry movements he turned on the cold water and started to cleanse his mouth, and splash water in his face. He would never kiss again – ever! He looked in the mirror and pulled off the blue shirt and through it in the corner as it had been contaminated.

Then he heard noise outside his room and got cold to core. Matt had left for sure, which only left one possibility behind. Cooper had been home anyway.

Blaine turned around and looked at his older brother standing in the door with a smug smile on his face. "Well baby brother … so you kiss guy's instead of girls … how interesting."

"SHUT UP COOP AND GET OUT OF MY ROOM", Blaine shouted without knowing where all the anger came from, but Cooper was just the last thing he needed right now.

Cooper held his hands in the air. "Hey, I don't care." He shrugged, "You can kiss whoever you want. But I'm not sure Dad feels the same way."

"Coop, you're just not gonna tell him", Blaine begged, feeling the ground beneath him starting to shake.

"Blaine … I think he already knows. He's just waiting for it to pass, hoping that you will turn back to normal again", Cooper said; and then he disappeared from the door leaving Blaine devastated in a world slowly falling apart.

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I don't own anything Glee related - all I have is my buzzing imagination!


	4. Chapter 4

****This weeks prompt was given to us by _Different Child_.

The prompt said: He's at home, scared, terrified, and just wishing that it would stop.

I have decided to write about Sam this time, because he was the first one on my mind. Sam is one of the characters that has grown on me and I'm thrilled that he will return in season 4 as a regular.

This one-shot takes place in season 2 right before the episode "Rumores"

Check out all the contributions by StarGleekBelle, GleekMom, Different Child and momaboutown as well.

Oh ... and reviews are nice ;-)

* * *

**At the end of the line**

Sam walked around in the house all by himself. He went from room to room trying to say goodbye to a home that had represented safety and happiness for him and his family. Maybe it wasn't the house itself that made it so hard to let go, but moving here had blessed him with some of the closest friendships of his life.

But now, this nearly empty ghost-house was nothing but an echo of his mom's tears and his dad's deepest despair.

His parents had done their best to hide the facts from him at first, but he had sensed it long before they told him.

His Dad had lost his job and with his Mom being home to look after the young ones, the income dropped to nothing after a couple of months. First they had to sell out on a few things, just until his Dad got employment, that's what they told him. But nothing happened and the tension in their family had grown like cancer threatening to destroy them for good.

Sam had tried to be strong for such a long time, but suddenly exhaustion and despair overpowered him. He went down to the living room and there he picked up his guitar and started to play it for the last time. He had decided to leave it at a pawnshop on his way home from school and give the money to his parents.

He started with a few chords. Every string on this precious instrument was a string to his heart. Sure, it was just a guitar, but it had been a symbol of everything he loved. It had helped him pour out his heart through music, when words hadn't been enough. He had played on this guitar together with Quinn...

His hands were familiar with every touch of it.

As the last chord silenced, Sam carefully placed the guitar in the flightcase and closed it with a broken spirit.

Then the reality of it all hit him full force. What would become of them? Would there be a future of hope and promises for him and his siblings? Would they have to move away from Lima and leave everything behind? What about his parents? Would their marriage be strong enough to endure all this pressure and all the broken dreams?

The tears started streaming down his face as he kneeled down beside the guitar. And then Sam did something he hadn't done for while.

He prayed.

He prayed for his family, that they would be protected through this storm. He prayed for a job for his Dad and for strength for his Mom. He prayed for his siblings, that they would have nothing but a happy childhood and that they would stay playful and unconcerned.

He carresed the flightcase where his guitar rested peacefully and then he whispered one last request to God:

_If you're there, God, and you can hear me … then please bring this guitar back to me somehow. As a promise from you… that things will turn around … and that you've got everything under control._

Sam sighed, dried the tears from his eyes and got up. It was time for school. He grabbed his guitar and looked one last time at their home, and then he closed the door and left.

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I don't own anything Glee related - all I have is my buzzing imagination!


	5. Chapter 5

This weeks prompt was my idea.

It's a headline or a song: **The one that got away**

I have known all along who I wanted to write about. This one-shot takes place about 15 years after the students graduaded from McKinley High.

I'm a feel-good-writer, so here we go...

* * *

Artie was concentrating completely on the last script alterations for tomorrows shooting. Making independent movies in L.A. meant doing a lot of things on your own and at surreal low budget.

It was getting late and he was tired, but some of the scenes didn't work and they had to. The film company he had started with his wife needed good reviews to survive.

His assistant checked in on him. "There's someone here to see you," she said.

Artie's head was starting to ache and he didn't take his eyes from the script. "Whoever it is will have to make an appointment for tomorrow. I'm busy."

"I tried to tell her that, but she insisted that I gave you her name."

Artie shook his head visibly annoyed. "Some people are just SO obnoxious."

"I know," the assistant said with her hands on her hips, "she says her name is Britney Spears, but she's not really."

Artie immediately stopped working and a smile suddenly softened the tired expression in his face, "Send her in."

"But I thought."

"I know, sent her in anyway."

* * *

She looked older but just as stunningly beautiful as he remembered. Her smile pulled him right back to the hallways of McKinley High and his pounding teenage heart. She had been his P.Y.T.

"Artie Abrams! I knew it had to be you," she said and squealed as she strode to give him a huge hug. "I saw your name on a poster by coincidence and … well, there's only one Artie Abrams right." She smelled like flowers and spear mint.

"My God Britt, what are you doing here?"

She grabbed a chair and sat down opposite him. She had always tried to be on eye level with him. That was one of the things he had loved about her. "I'm here with Santana trying to find new sponsors to our school of arts."

Artie's head was buzzing with questions. "You guys have a school?"

"Yeah, we rented a dance studio in New York a couple of years ago and now we work with troubled girls from the street." She gave him another one of her radiant smiles, "Santana deals with the troubles and teach them how to sing and I give them dance lessons." She laughed, "Those girls listens to no one I can tell you that much, but they respect Santana."

"Ha ha, I do believe that." Artie said and took in all the new information. Her hair was shorter but still long enough to look completely hot when she danced … in his mind. "That sounds like an awesome project Brittany. I'm impressed."

"Well I'm impressed too Artie," she said and picked up one of his business cards from the table. "Director of independent movies. I bet you're good."

"It's a lot of hard work and no big pay check yet, but I'm my own boss … and this has been my dream ever since the glory days in McKinley High." Her eyes still looked all innocent and trusting and they still touched a soft spot inside of him. "So you're still with Santana. I'm happy for you guys."

"Yeah, we have our ups and downs, but somebody's gotta look after that beautiful girl … and I love her to death." Brittany waved her hand at him showing a beautiful diamond ring. "We got married five years ago."

"Wow, that just … that's really great Britt." He smiled at her and a strange peacefulness emerged in his heart.

They talked for an hour, effortlessly and energetic. They managed to erase those 15 years that had passed, and remembered who they had been back then - the insecurities, the laughter, the hurt, hopes and dreams. Together they were light hearted.

When she had to go again they hugged for a long time.

"Brittany."

"Mmm."

"For me you will always be 'The one that got away'."

She looked at him and kissed him softly. "I know," she said and winked at him before she disappeared out of his life one more time.

* * *

Ten minutes later his wife came to pick him up. "Are you ready to go home, baby."

He smiled at her and reached out his hand. "Come here."

"Are you okay, Artie? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He laughed, "I kind of have, but I just need a kiss from you, and I'll be alright."

"Awww, you cute thing." She sat on his lap with her legs hanging from the side of the wheelchair. Then she cupped his cheeks with her hands and kissed him gently and slowly.

"You see," he said beaming, "I'm alright again."

"Then let's go home," she whispered in his ear.

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I don't own anything Glee related - all I have is my buzzing imagination!


	6. Chapter 6

****So here we go with this weeks prompt: **Most memorable moment with your best friend.**

This story takes place around 5 years after McKinley High graduation.

Hope you enjoy it ;-)

* * *

David Karofsky sat down at the bar counter and drank eagerly from the glass of foaming beer in front of him. He let the relaxing effect of the liquid spread through his body. It had been a long week and with Joey out of town the weekend wouldn't be as much fun as it used to be.

David smiled. He had gotten so use to have somebody special in his life, that it was hard to be apart. But this weekend he had to live without. He had planned to just hang out here a couple of hours and then go home and prepare for the game this upcoming Sunday.

He was already getting lost in strategic planning, when he suddenly heard a voice he would have recognized anywhere.

He turned around and saw Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson enter the bar heading for a table. David reached them just as they were sitting down.

"Kurt, I knew it had to be you!" David said with a laugh.

Kurt looked at him with some confusion and then lit up in a big smile as he jumped up and gave his friend a bear hug. "Oh my God Dave, is it really you?" Kurt turned to Blaine who stood up as well smiling from ear to ear. "Wow, it's so good to see you again," Kurt panted. "Sit down."

The three guys got as comfortable as they could on the hard wood stoles and Kurt and Blaine ordered something to drink as well.

"So what are you guys doing in Lima big city?" David asked.

"Oh just visiting our families," Blaine answered, "and walking down memory lane, it's so weird every time we come back here."

"But it must be pretty boring compared to New York I imagine."

Kurt shrugged, "New York is New York, and we love living there, but sometimes it's blissful to get the pace down and relax a bit."

Blaine nodded in agreement and looked curious at David, "I would never have thought you would stick around here in Lima after all the bad stuff happening."

"It wasn't my intension either, but then I was offered a job as football coach on a public high school and it's the best thing I've ever done."

Kurt gave Blaine a nervous stare. "So the students and the parents are okay with a gay coach?"

David took a sip of his beer, "Not at first, they were scared that I would rub off on their boys, but the Principal stood strong and when the team suddenly started winning, after losing for years, the protests somehow stopped. Now it's our competitors parents that gives me a hard time."

The boys laughed, and the way Kurt just beamed by the reunion meant the world to David.

They kept talking for a couple of hours remembering the hardships as well as the victories. What Kurt had meant for David in the struggles of his life was beyond anything else, and because of that they would always be connected.

The bar became more crowded and the music got louder as people started to dance.

David got an idea and knew that he had to follow it through, so he braved up. "Kurt, I do believe I owe you a dance."

Kurt met his eyes and David saw nothing but respect. "Yes you do owe me that," he said, "but you don't have to do it here."

"But I want to, and I come here all the time with my boyfriend." David said and turned to Blaine, "Is it okay with you?"

Blaine smiled, "Just go ahead, I got the first dance remember."

Then David got up and stretched out his hand to Kurt. "May I have this dance?"

Kurt took his hand and answered: "Yes, yes you may."


	7. Chapter 7 The First Time

This weeks prompt was: The first three words have to be_: _**The first time**

I went the most obvious way with this one, but I honestly needed to go there.

The song has been with me all week; it's one my favorite songs ever, and a clever way to get the story started. ;-)

Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**The first time ever I lay with you  
I felt your heart so close to mine  
And I knew our joy would fill the Earth  
and last till the end of time my love**

Blaine was lying so close to him that they inhaled the same air, as their breathing found a common rhythm and pace. The color of his eyes was a bit darker than usual; more light chocolate brown than the shade of golden honey they would tend to have in bright daylight.

He lingered at every line of Blaine's beautiful face, the eye brows, the strong jaw line, the lips slightly parted, and the glimpse of the white teeth that could light up an entire room, when he smiled.

There was no rush between them; just endless moments of anticipation, promises, and trust. This had to be special in every possible way, he thought, because this night would stay with him forever, like a fingerprint in his heart, Blaine's fingerprint.

Their hands met in midair, palm against palm, fingers slowly intertwining to a firm grip. He knew he would never let go, as it would never make sense to let go.

It was a love found when he wasn't even looking. In the darkest hour of his life, Blaine had been everything and more than he had ever dreamed of. He was always giving and never asking for more than Kurt was offering freely.

The emotional connection between them deepened, and his heart was pounding out of his chest, as he felt Blaine's desire emerge and built up the moment. He suddenly couldn't prevent the tears that welled his eyes; it was his hearts outpour of intensity.

"Don't cry baby," Blaine whispered and caught the first tear with his thumb.

Kurt closed his eyes and focused on the mere presence of Blaine. "I want you so bad – do you know that?" he managed to say with a broken voice.

Blaine nodded with the most tender look in his eyes and moved even closer, "I'm right here Kurt – you can have me. You can always have me," he whispered with his mouth on Kurt's lips.

And Kurt followed his lead trustingly, as Blaine started to kiss his face, his lips, his neck, and the little scar he had there. Blaine's hands slipped under Kurt's t-shirt; every warm gentle touch and the way their bodies intertwined eagerly, made the world spin.

Kurt allowed himself to slip out of control, as Blaine slowly pushed him over the edge; no regrets, just love.

The physical connection was amazing, but the emotional connection was bigger than life.

Their bodies were still intertwined, when Blaine was slipping in to sleep. The last thing he whispered to Kurt, before he closed his eyes was, "You're so beautiful – do you know that?"

Kurt watched him as his body got heavy and his breathing got deeper. He watched his hair curling at the temples, his strong arms, the eyelashes fanning on the cheekbones, and the curves of his body under the sheet that only covered him slightly. It really was bigger than life, Kurt thought to himself, before he too closed his eyes.

* * *

I don't own anything Glee related - all I have is my buzzing imagination!


	8. Chapter 8 The most unlikely

This week's prompt was given to us by GleekMom: **When tragedy strikes, help sometimes comes from the most unlikely of places.**

I had to edit out 250 words to get to 1,000 - so the pace comes out a little rushed - but that's the blessing and the curse about these prompts. :-)

I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**The most unlikely **

Mercedes closed her eyes, and leaned against the wall slowly sliding down, until she was sitting on the ground. Her world was crumbling down like bricks from a giant wall threatening to crush her. She tried her best to keep the tears from falling, because even though she had found the most abandoned spot on McKinley, behind the grandstand on the football field, she would hate for anybody to see her cry.

But the loneliness and the mere solitude of the place pushed her over the edge, and heartbreakingly sobs escaped her body.

God she missed Kurt!

He would have been the first one to help her out. She was thrilled that he liked Dalton so much, but she needed him right now. Nobody knew her like he did.

She led out a gasp, when a group of cheerleaders suddenly appeared around the corner. They didn't pay that much attention to her, and she refused to look at them, she just wanted to be left alone.

But as they were nearly gone, one of them made a comment. "Hey Santana, I believe it's one of _your_ friends," a girl said with a loud whisper, surely meant for Mercedes to hear.

"Nope, not a friend of mine," Santana replied, "I don't have friends, I only have lovers." They all giggled.

It actually hurt, even though it was ridiculous, because she didn't care about Santana, she cared about Kurt.

Mercedes decided to stay for a couple more minutes and try to get a grip of herself before class; she just _had _to!

"Don't you want a more private place to cry your eyes out? You look awful!"

Mercedes hadn't noticed that Santana had returned, before she stood right in front of her. "I'm fine, don't even bother!" she answered.

"Come on stupid, I'm trying to help you out here." Santana grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the ground. Then she signaled for Mercedes to follow her, and together they sneaked out of the grandstand area, and ended up in a little shack Mercedes hadn't noticed before.

"What is this?" She asked with a voice still shaking after the cry.

"It's the Janitors shack for his lawnmower and a bunch of other stuff," Santana answered with a shrug.

Mercedes looked around. The shack was cozy in its own weird way. "Have you been here before?"

Santana laughed sarcastically, "I come here all the time; great place to make out!"

"Oh, of course." Mercedes should have figured that one out.

Santana turned around on the floor, "Welcome to my office, and do take a seat." She pointed to a wooden box that seemed solid enough, so Mercedes sat down and Santana jumped up on the lawnmower sitting sideways, so she was facing Mercedes. "Are you gonna tell me what's eating you up, or are we just gonna sit here forever?!"

Mercedes looked at her suspiciously. "I didn't think you cared, since we obviously aren't friends - or lovers."

Santana rolled her eyes, "I'm here now, and your gay-best-friend is not; so spit it out!"

Mercedes took a deep breath. She had nothing to lose right now, so why not? "My mom is having an affair, and yesterday my dad found out."

Santana tilted her head, "Look, I don't mean to be insensitive, but things like that happen you know."

Despite the harsh words Mercedes could tell that Santana wasn't trying to be mean. She glanced at the pretty girl. The next part was a bit harder to confess. "She is having an affair with a man from our church."

This time Santana hesitated a moment before speaking. "Okay, I see the struggle in that one."

"You do?"

"Of course – You're a church family, which means most of your parent's friends are people from the same church. It's not only the foundation of everything you have at home that now is shattering, it's also the foundation of everything you believe in. Am I right?"

"I didn't think you understood about church." Mercedes muttered.

"I don't! I have **SO** many issues about the church, but that doesn't mean I don't respect how important it is to some people. I just don't pay that respect in public of course."

Mercedes smiled and shook her heard. "No of course." Then the sadness returned. "It's just that, it's such a scandal and our family will be disgraced. People will be talking about my mom, and I don't want them to."

"Do you love your parents?" Santana asked seriously.

"Of course I do!" Mercedes answered.

"Do you still love your mom, even though she has been unfaithful to your dad?"

"Yes I do, very much. It just hurts to see my dad so broken."

Santana nodded. "Just keep in mind that every story has two sides, and it's not your job to choose side. Your job is to love them, and trust them to work out their own problems. Oh, and it doesn't hurt to pray to God for strength too."

"I didn't think you believed in God either."

"Hey, Church is one thing, but God is a completely different matter," Santana said with raised chin.

Mercedes allowed the words to settle. It was true after all, she couldn't carry her parent's burden, or the burden of the expectations of the church; she could only carry herself.

"Thank you Santana." Mercedes caught the eyes of her _friend_. "You have been very helpful."

Santana jumped down from the lawnmower and brushed the dust off of her uniform. "Just don't tell anybody, right!"

"That you have been in the shack with a girl?" Mercedes smirked.

Santana rolled her eyes again. "Don't tell about the "helping-you-out" thing. My badass reputation can't handle that kind of mentality."

Mercedes smiled, "Your secret's safe with me."

"Cool," Santana said. Then she winked and left the shack.

Mercedes leaned back on the wall behind her. She still missed Kurt, but somehow Santana had made her feel better, secret or not!

* * *

Please review :-)


	9. Chapter 9 Spoons

This week's prompt was given to us by "Different Child".

She introduced us to the "Spoon-theory" and asked us to use it somehow in the prompt.

The spoon-theory is a metaphor for the limited energy people with certain sicknesses can have. Each activity during the day, costs a spoon - when there's no more spoons left, there's no more energy. So the spoons have to be used wisely.

I have chosen a different angle for this one, because my focus is on the relatives, instead of the sick person. To be close to someone who is forced to live a "spoon-life" is a huge responsibility, and it is far from easy.

So, here you go :-)

* * *

**Spoons**

Kurt picked up his buzzing phone, as he walked across the parking lot on his way home from school.

"Hi dad," he said cheerful and opened the door to the car. He struggled to get seated balancing his bag and the phone pressed to his ear, at the same time.

"Hi Kurt, where are you right now?" His dad asked.

Kurt put the key in the ignition and started the car. "I'm on my way home. Do you need me to get you something?" Kurt appreciated finally doing something for his dad instead of waiting for him to open his eyes at the hospital.

"No - It's not that," his dad replied hesitant, "I just … need you to come and pick me up, that's all."

"Pick you up?!" Kurt yelled and stopped the car again. "Dad, tell me that you're at home, sitting on the couch, resting like you're supposed to!" Kurt knew his tone was too edgy, but right now he didn't care.

"I'm not proud of this Kurt, but I'm in the park."

"I can't believe you! What are you doing in the park?"

"I needed the fresh air," Burt said and tried to sound innocent, "and I needed a view that wasn't limited to the wallpaper and the TV for once; but now I'm too tired to walk home again."

"Burt Hummel," Kurt sighed, and rolled his eyes, even though his dad couldn't see it, "are you trying to have another heart attack, because you will, if you don't start listening to the doctors."

"I know, I know, and I am sorry Kurt. So … will you come and get me?"

"Of course dad, don't move." Kurt answered more calmly.

* * *

He drove as fast as he could all wrapped up in worries and reliefs at the same time. How was he supposed to let all the anxiety go? The fear of losing his dad followed him as a shadow every day, but he had to let it go eventually; this was too hard. For once a part of him appreciated, that Carol was in his dad's life as well. He needed to share the burden of looking out for him with someone else.

When he reached the park, the fear sneaked up on him again. What if his dad was lying somewhere, because he had strained himself too much?

Kurt hurried out of the car and looked anxiously around.

Sitting on a bench, on the most beautiful place in park, he spotted a man with a cap and a very recognizable shirt, facing the sun with his eyes closed looking peaceful and happy.

Kurt smiled, and all the anger and fear left him immediately. He was truly touched by the sight, as he walked slowly towards his dad and sat down next to him.

They sat there silent for a while just enjoying the beauty of it all.

"I'm sorry Kurt; I didn't mean to upset you," Burt said.

"I do get it dad, I just worry."

Burt nodded. "I know, but what would _you_ do, if you were supposed to sleep or sit at the couch all day?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "I … would probably have sneaked off to the park, and then have called my dad, when I realized, I was too tired to walk home." Kurt couldn't help smiling.

"And I would have come and picked you up." Burt replied.

"I know dad." Kurt said, "You just have to remember, that you only have so many spoons for one day."

Burt chuckled, "What are you suddenly talking about spoons for?"

Kurt couldn't help laugh either, "It's just a theory I read about."

"A spoon theory?" Burt asked clearly still amused.

"Don't tease me." Kurt punched his dad's shoulder and smiled, "It _is_ called the spoon theory, and I can give you the details later, when you're more serious." Kurt looked at his dad. "I just want you to use your energy wisely, because it's limited right now, and it could be for a long time."

"I am trying Kurt; it's just not that easy." Burt confessed.

"I know." Kurt got up and helped his dad up as well. They slowly walked back to the car.

"So, what am I allowed to do for the rest of the day?" Burt asked politely.

"You … have … permission to sit on the couch and watch Deadliest Catch."

"That might work."

"Hey, I'll even watch it with you."

"You would really do that for me?" Burt asked happy.

"Yes, but just one episode." Kurt said and raised a brow looking firmly at his dad.

"But there's a marathon, you could easily catch up."

"One episode dad."

"Okay," Burt chuckled, "I'll behave, I promise."

* * *

I don't own anything Glee related - all I have is my buzzing imagination!


	10. Chapter 10 Turning Tables

This week it's my prompt: God only knows what we're fighting for (a dialog)

Turning Tables by Adele has always meant something special to me. I heard it the first time, as my sister was going through a difficult divorce. She left a man who abused her emotional. To watch her struggle has inspired this story.

Very quickly I decided to do two one-shots for this prompt. The same argument, but from different POV's

The other one-shot is posted as a new story, and is called "The abyss". I hope you will read both :-)

A fair warning - there will occur rough language.

* * *

**Turning Tables**

She hesitated briefly before she opened the door. Sometimes his unpredictability got the better of her. He had been okay this morning, but there were days when his mood would change in a heartbeat.

She tip toed into the house and listened. "Are you home Cooter?" she asked making an effort to sound happy.

She could hear him get up from the couch and soon enough he stood in the kitchen arms crossed. Even before he spoke, she sensed his hostility. It was one of the bad days.

"Didn't you see my car in the drive way?" he asked irritated.

"Yes of course," she said, and kept her smile in place.

"Then it's a stupid question, don't you think?" There were no sparks in his eyes, just an abyss of darkness and hurt.

She decided not to argue with him, and started emptying the bags with groceries instead. But he just kept staring at her back, and discomfort rose through her spine and made the hair on her neck rise. In a panic search for subjects that weren't dangerous she picked the first thing on her mind. "So how did the game go today? Did your guys nail them?"

The minute those words had left her mouth she knew it was a mistake.

"Do I look like I'm celebrating?" he asked through gritted teeth, and closed in on her.

"No," she answered carefully. Then she turned to him, met his eyes and squeezed his arm; she missed his embrace. "Coot, you'll get them next time." She smiled. "It's just a football game; it's not the end of the world."

Then he exploded in her face. "I cannot believe you just said that. Maybe losing a game isn't that big of a deal, when you're coaching an insignificant McKinley High football team; so I should have guessed you would be too stupid to understand; but it's a big deal for me, and I do require some respect from you concerning my work."

She blinked by the mere intensity of his outburst, and whished nothing but to calm him down. "I do respect you Coot," she said quietly, "and I'm sorry, it was insensitive of me."

He paced the kitchen floor and she followed him carefully with her eyes.

"And now we're having this sort of discussion," he panted angrily, "don't you think you forgot something this morning?

She quickly did the math. She had done the dishes, the bed was made and the house hadn't been messy when she left this morning. "I don't think so," she answered.

He stepped closer. "Think real hard, Shannon."

She franticly searched her mind, but couldn't come up with anything. "The garbage Shannon," he whispered, closing in on her face. "You forgot to go out with the garbage yesterday."

God, how could she forget?!

"Do you know what chicken smells like after 24 hours?" he asked. She just stared at him and something everything inside of her went numb. "It smells like a dumb!" he said. "And how do you think that makes me feel, when I come home, tired and hungry after a long day, and all I can smell is rotten chicken in my house?"

"Coot, I'm sorry," she whispered, "let me make it up to you, I'll make a delicious dinner for us."

He grabbed two plates from the table and smashed them on the floor, where they broke into a thousand pieces. "I don't want your fucking dinner," he shouted, "I want a wife who understands what marriage means, a woman who knows what being in a relationship means. But how can you know? Since I'm the first one who ever wanted you!"

She backed away from him, until she was cornered by the wall behind her. He knew her weaknesses and her insecurities about men, and it hurt so much every time he threw it her face; and still all she could think about right now, were the broken plates on the floor.

When she saw his fist in the air, she was too paralyzed to protect herself. She just closed her eyes, as his hand crashed into to the wall a few inches from her face.

He screamed out in pain. "Look what you made me do! It's your own fault, you do know that, right!" Then he grabbed his coat and stormed out. "Don't wait up for me," he mumbled before slamming the door.

The tears kept streaming down her face as she collected each of the broken pieces from the plates, like they were treasures to her. When she was done, she started making dinner. The damage on the wall was substantial, so she figured he must have sprained his hand. He would need ice on it when he returned. She would have to check if they had anything left in the freezer, she thought.

* * *

Please review and go to "The Abyss".


	11. Chapter 11 A Moment of Weakness

So a prompt from StarGleekBelle this week: **A Moment of Weakness**

Very quickly I knew I had to continue my one-shot from last week. So here's another chapter about Shannon and Cooter.

We are a bit further in the storyline this time. Shannon has been hit now for real, and even though she tries to cover things up at work, she eventually has to admit that she lives in an abusive relationship.

Sue prompts her to leave Cooter and take care of herself, and she realizes that it's the right thing to do.

* * *

**A Moment of Weakness**

Shannon's fingers followed the pattern of the tablecloth absentmindedly. The fabric felt soft under the tips of her fingers and the sensation somehow calmed her down a bit.

It was her idea to meet in a coffee shop. She needed a public place. Even though she wasn't ready to admit it, it felt safer than home. Her eyes wandered to the beautiful flowers he had bought for her, standing on the table. She appreciated the gesture, but she didn't know what to do with it.

She glanced at Cooter from time to time. He seemed just as nervous as her. So far they had only small talked, avoided the dangerous areas.

She was going to leave him. She knew that; and it was her final decision; it couldn't be any other way. Now she just needed to tell him, and that was exactly why she wanted them to meet here. She couldn't predict his reaction. If he thought flowers could fix everything, he would be wrong.

He was falling apart right in front of her, and she noticed, but she couldn't be the one to comfort him, not this time.

"Shannon." His voice broke and his hands trembled as he reached over the table. "Tell me how I can make this up to you again, how I can make you forgive me."

She didn't say anything, because there was really nothing to say.

"I promise you, that I'll never hit you again, or get aggressive or angry. I realize I have a problem, and I'm willing to seek counseling of some sort, to figure it out."

She looked at him with dry eyes and felt numb, more than anything. Even though the bruise on her eye now was nothing but a mere shadow, the hurt in her throbbing heart was a wide open wound. "You have promised before Cooter, what makes it different this time?" she asked.

"Because I can change, I know I can change; and when I get angry it's just because I'm so afraid of losing you." He took her hand in his two hands and rubbed her knuckles. "You're the love of my life, Shannon. I've never felt like this about anyone else in my entire life." He swallowed hard and licked his lips before continuing. "I am lucky to have you, and I need your love to get me through this. I need your support, and I need you to believe in me. I can't do it on my own. I need you, Shannon!"

There was nothing demanding over his tone of voice right now, only despair and hopelessness.

She was not the only victim here, she knew that, but how could she fight for both of them? Cooter had told her bits and pieces of his childhood and about a father who never hesitated to beat the truth into his boys. How could Cooter turn out to be anything else?

"Just tell me one thing Shannon," he whispered. And for the first time she allowed herself to meet his eyes and really look at him.

"Do you still love me?" he then asked gently.

The armor around her heart suddenly cracked and caved in. Not much, but enough to make room for doubt. What if he was right? What if she could truly help him? What if her love was all he needed to heal? She blinked at him and cleared her throat. "Yes, Cooter, I still love you."

Cooter's tears of relief pushed her over the edge, and in a moment of weakness, she changed her decision, and promised him to give him one more chance.

* * *

I feel I have to add something to this story. An abusive relationship can never be fixed by pure love - no matter how hard you try.


	12. Chapter 12 The Pleaser

This week's prompt was given by momaboutown: **Born this way - give a new character a BTW shirt or change one of the original characters**

****I have decided to give Finn a new shirt. This story takes place right after Finn has sent Rachel off to New York, and has decided to join the Army.

* * *

**The Pleaser**

"Can I have a seat?"

Finn turned around and looked surprised at his stepbrother before he broke into a smile and made room for him on the hood of his car. "How did you find me?" he asked a little puzzled.

Kurt took a seat and handed his brother one of the cokes he had brought. "I happen to know that this is your favorite make out place with Rachel." He smirked. "So I just did the math."

"So Rachel told you, huh?"

"Yep."

Finn took a sip of his coke and took in the view. It was a very peaceful place and pretty deserted most of the time; and Kurt was right, the memory of Rachel stayed strong with him just being here.

"Are you gonna be okay Finn?" Kurt asked concerned.

Finn nodded. "Yeah, I think so." Today he had done one of the hardest things in his life, and at the same time, it felt so right. Like the first right decision in years maybe.

The boys sat quiet for a while, sharing that moment of "I didn't get in" that had connected them the last days. "It was a very brave thing you did today." Kurt finally said. "Letting Rachel go and chasing a dream of your own, I mean."

Finn turned to look at him and a sad smile reflected his emotional state of mind. The pain of letting Rachel go was cutting through him like a sharp edge twisting in his heart. "I didn't do it to be brave you know, and I didn't just do it for Rachel; I did it for me too."

"I'm glad to hear that Finn."

Finn sighed. "Do you remember that assignment we did with Shue, the "Born this way" t-shirts?"

"Sure. Yours said **Can't dance** as far as I recall."

"Yeah," Finn confirmed. "It wouldn't say that today though. I mean, I still can't dance, but that is a minor thing after all."

"What would it say then?" Kurt asked curious.

"It would say **Pleaser**, cause that's what I am, and that just may be my biggest weakness." He hesitated for a moment and Kurt waited patiently for him and let him continue. "You know, all my life, I have been trying to live up to other people's expectations, or what I _thought_ they expected of me.

As a captain of the football team, I was expected to lead the team to victory; and be a role model, as well as one of the guys.

In glee club I was expected to be the lead male soloist, even though I never asked for that position; other people wanted that for me, and I did my best to please them."

He cleared his throat. "Quinn expected me to be understanding and caring, after lying to me about me being the father of her child.

I thought my dad would have expected me to be a hero just like him, and I really tried, until it turned out that he wasn't … a hero, I mean.

And more than anything I have been trying to please Rachel, to somehow make my dream fit into hers. I think I have been a pleaser for so long, that I don't know how not to. Does that make sense at all?"

"Yes that does make sense," Kurt said quietly. "Just remember that your weak side also is your strong side. I think your biggest quality is how easy you pick up on other people's needs and struggles, and how you help them."

"Thanks for saying that."

"You're welcome."

Finn side eyed Kurt."This _is_ the place where I use to make out with Rachel, but don't get your hopes up," he said chuckling.

"Jeez Finn," Kurt rolled his eyes and laughed; "talk about ruining a perfectly beautiful moment!" Kurt nudged Finn's shoulder. "Goofball!"

"I love you too, Kurt."

"I know Finn." Kurt jumped down from the hood of the car. "Now we need to get home. Your mom is worried about you."

Finn emptied the coke and looked at the view one more time. It was like a mental goodbye to a part of his life that ended today. He would be alright. He owed that much to himself.


	13. Chapter 13 The American Dream

**The American Dream**

Schuester was perky and cheerful as always when he walked into the room. Sam smiled at the sight; he felt good in the choir room, like he belonged, and he was optimistic about his senior year in general.

"Okay guys," Schue said energetic as he grabbed the pen for the whiteboard. "This week's assignment is about an essential part of the history and mentality of our country."

Sugar yawned already, and Britt visibly zoned out by the word _history_, but Sam noticed how Blaine sat up straight in his chair, and how Artie smiled.

The board shook slightly as Schue wrote with frantic movements _The American dream. _He turned around and smiled. "The American dream; can anybody explain what it means?"

The members of the Glee club seemed to hesitate a bit, adjusting to their teacher's excitement.

"The American dream is when someone succeeds against all odds," Tina said as the first one.

"Yes," Schue replied, "anyone else?"

"When your talent is discovered and you become extremely famous and wealthy," Unique added and pulled a strand of hair away from her eyes.

"To push through and never give up," Blaine said with a shrug, "like Rachel and Kurt."

Something in the discussion annoyed Sam, he couldn't point it out at first, but it all seemed too easy. The talk had continued around him when he suddenly jerked up his body composure, as things inside of him connected and surfaced.

"Yes Sam," Schue said encouraging, aware of something going on.

Sam licked his lips and locked on his teachers eyes. "I just don't understand it," he said confused. "If it's an American dream shouldn't it then be for all Americans?"

Schue tilted his head and looked at him with interest. "I take it that you don't think it's for all Americans then."

"No," Sam said surprised, "how can it be? I mean for a lot of people in this country, the American dream is a nightmare."

"How come?" Schue asked. He didn't seem annoyed or taken aback; if anything he met Sam's eyes with respect.

"The American dream isn't just about talent or pushing through, it's also about luck, and where is the fairness in that?" Sam stood up and faced his friends. It just felt natural to do it and it was important for him to make them understand. "I don't think the single mom with three kids, who can't find a job, hasn't pushed through, or hasn't dreamed, or lack talent for something. Life has just dealt her a bad hand, you know."

He stepped back to get a better view of them all. "Where is the American dream for those who suffers from severe illness, but can't afford healthcare, can't afford the best doctors, or the best medicine?

Or what about those families that had it all, but lost it because a parent got fired; a parent who didn't do anything wrong other than being the last one to get hired, and the first one to get fired."

Sam wasn't looking for sympathy, but sometimes his friends needed a reality check. "Where is the American dream when it comes to marriage equality?" He captured Blaine's eyes and got a shy smile in return. "Blaine has to move to New York to marry Kurt, but I can get married to any girl in any state if I want to." Joe squeezed Blaine's shoulder from behind and Blaine whispered a "Thanks man."

"What about the kids living in the streets, or those who simply haven't been lucky enough to have parents who cares, or who aren't capable of supporting them?" Jake glanced at him and looked down again.

"I thought this was about _American Idol_ or _The_ _Voice_," Sugar whispered loudly to Brittany.

Mr. Schue got up before anyone could respond to that. He squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Thank you for sharing Sam. I'm proud of you. Those are very important issues."

As Sam sat down again, he wondered what had just happened. He had always been afraid to speak up, or stand out, constantly trying to fit in and blend in. But it had felt great, like breathing. He was passionate about this, more than he thought he would be.

When they were dismissed he and Blaine walked together to the parking lot.

"You were really great in there," Blaine said with a sigh. "I just don't hope you will run for Class President. I really have my eyes on that one."

Sam chuckled and bumped into his friends shoulder. "Nah, you can run for Class President, and then I'll go for the White House."

"Deal," Blaine said with a laugh, "I know I'll vote for you."

"Thanks man."


	14. Chapter 14 - A house is not a home

This week's prompt was given by Different Child: First five words have to be - **On a cold rainy night**

This time I _had_ to do Klaine - and all Klainers knows why!

Enjoy ;-)

* * *

**A house is not a home**

On a cold rainy night like this Kurt wished he and Blaine lived in California instead of New York; but it was only in his weakest moments though. He loved their life I New York. The breathing city with its opportunities and creativity was the blood running through his veins.

The freezing rain seeped into his clothes, and as his hair got soaked as well, little streams of cold water continued down his neck and back. He cursed. The leather of his expensive Italian shoes was already stained and blotchy. They would be wrecked after this.

The entire day had been a disaster as a matter of fact. One of his coworkers at Vogue had made him look bad, and he knew he was better than her. Then there had been a mix-up about fabrics and a newbie had spilled coffee on his drawings.

The fashion world was competitive and vicious at times; and even though Rachel often claimed it was far worse in the theater world he seriously questioned that.

As he locked himself inside the apartment a delicious smell of garlic, spices, and warm bread welcomed him. He let his bag drop to the floor as he saw Blaine smile to him from the kitchen. "You weren't supposed to be home," Kurt said with tears in his eyes. It was stupid to get so emotional about it, but right now being with Blaine was the only thing that could turn this day around.

Blaine frowned at Kurt's appearance. "Rehearsals got cancelled, so now I can spend the night with you," he said, as he strode to Kurt with concern in the golden eyes. "But you're freezing, baby." He dried the water from Kurt's face with his bare hands. "We've got to get you out of all these wet clothes. You'll get sick."

Kurt nodded with gratitude; it felt so good to be taken care of.

Blaine quickly removed the Armani coat and put it on a hanger to dry. When Kurt tried to unbutton his shirt with trembling fingers, Blaine took his hands, rubbed them and breathed some warmth into them.

"Let me do this," he said softly and carefully slipped the buttons of Kurt's shirt free and palmed up his chest to push the wet garment off of his shoulders. When Kurt's teeth started to rattle from the air cooling down the damped and naked upper part of his body, Blaine determinedly took off his own warm sweater and helped Kurt get into it.

Kurt's eyes lingered on his boyfriend's chest, the strong back and his defined arms, still amazed by the golden tone to Blaine's skin. He looked beautiful.

Blaine caught the stare and smiled as he struggled with Kurt's wet pants. "We'll get to that later baby, don't worry."

"I was that obvious?" Kurt asked with a chuckle.

"Yep." Blaine's smile grew wider. "Now come here." He took Kurt by the hand, led him to the couch and tucked a soft blanket around the cold boy. Then he disappeared for a minute and returned with a pair of grey sweatpants. He kneeled by the couch and helped Kurt put them on.

"It's your pants," Kurt said with a quiver in his voice. It would take a while to get warm again.

"Yes it is." Blaine confirmed. "And I know they aren't fashionable in any way, but they will keep you warm like no Alexander McQueen will ever do."

Kurt chuckled. "Touché Mr. Anderson."

Now Blaine found a pair of warm socks that he carefully put on Kurt's ice cold feet. He got up in the couch and placed both Kurt's feet in his lap and started rubbing them. Slowly the warmth started to spread and Kurt relaxed more and more. He couldn't take his eyes off of Blaine. The way he calmly worked around him, making sure he would be alright, meant more than words. There was so much love and consideration in everything he offered right now, that it threatened to overwhelm Kurt.

Blaine left one more time and came back with a warm towel. He entered the couch again and sat down on Kurt's outstretched legs, with a knee on each side of Kurt's thighs, so Kurt didn't have to carry his weight. With the warm towel he started to dry Kurt's wet hair with gentle strokes.

Their eyes were locked and they didn't break eye contact one time while Blaine was working on Kurt's hair.

"My hair looks awful right now," Kurt said weakly.

"Your hair always looks beautiful," Blaine whispered. Then he leaned in and covered Kurt's mouth with his lips, kissing him softly and deep.

"I love you," Kurt said with a breathy sigh when they finally broke the intimate connection.

"I love you too," Blaine replied and leaned against Kurt's forehead.

"Can we please just sit together for a while?"

"Sure." Blaine got up and gently pushed Kurt a bit to make room behind him. When he was seated, he pulled Kurt back into his arms, making the boys head rest against his chest. Kurt cuddled immediately and intertwined their bodies.

To be right here in this warm embrace, listening to Blaine's steady heart rhythm, feeling the vibrations from his voice spreading to his own body, was the single most important thing in the entire world.

This was home.

Blaine started to hum, and after a while the words followed.

_Let's go all the way tonight – no regrets – just love_

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

_The way you turn me on, I can't sleep_

_Let's run away and don't ever look back_

_Don't ever look back._


	15. Chapter 15 - The Abyss

So we are back from **Between Friends** hiatus and it feels good to get started again!

**Prompt: Write a scene for one of your current or past fics that you were afraid to write.**

****I have cheated just a bit this time, because this is a one-shot I wrote a while ago, but didn't post as a **Between Friends** story. But it's too important for me to just be left out, so here it comes anyway.

We once had a prompt saying: **God only knows what we're fighting for **- which for my part led to a one-shot of a fight between Shannon and Cooter. I wrote it from Shannon's point of view, and tried to describe how terrified she must have been realizing that Cooter could lose his temper in a split second.

**The Abyss** is the same fight, but from Cooter's point of view - and it was basically a challenge I gave myself.

In**The Land Of Stories** Chris Colfer wrote a line that will stay with me forever: **A villain is a victim whose story hasn't been told. **

****This is glimpse of Cooter's story. I'm not defending his actions in **any way**, and that's important for me to say. I also wanna emphasize that Shannon can never be the one helping him or healing him. He needs professional help to change. But he's still a person and his voice needs to be heard as well.

This can be tough to read, and it was tough to write - but I hope it will be worth it.

* * *

**The Abyss**

He heard her come inside the house and call out, "Are you home Cooter?"

The tension crawled under his skin right away. The question annoyed him, of course he was home.

He got up from the couch and felt the tiredness and the dizziness from the two beers he'd already finished. His jaw clenched as he watched her. "Didn't you see my car in the drive way?" he asked annoyed.

"Yes of course," she said, and smiled.

He couldn't deal with her perky mood at this time. "Then it's a stupid question, don't you think?" He waited for a reaction, and a part of him searched for any kind of excuse.

But she just turned around, and started emptying the bags with groceries as if nothing had happened. The frustrations of a crabby day were building up inside of him, like a tower solid enough to stand forever. He had been _this_ close to getting fired today, because his sports manager wasn't pleased with his results. Not that he would ever tell her, he could take care of his own business; needed no woman for that!

"So how did the game go today? Did your guys nail them?" she asked, still perky but her smile revealed a touch of insecurity. His temper rose anyway, like a volcano dying for an outlet.

"Do I look like I'm celebrating?" he asked roughly, aware of the tension that by now shot up in his neck and travelled further up to his head.

"No," she answered carefully. She was starting to crumble and it just gave him a weird kind of satisfaction that he couldn't

explain. He used to crumble like that under his father's stare when he was a kid. He and his brother always knew that right after the stare their dad would lose his temper, and beat the crap out of them.

She turned around and touched him lightly, but it made him squirm on the spot, he couldn't handle any touching right now. "Coot," she said and tilted her head; "you'll get them next time." She smiled. "It's just a football game; it's not the end of the world."

He felt how he got disconnected from his own body as an explosion of suppressed anger and fury almost possessed him. "I cannot believe you just said that." Somewhere in the room he heard his own voice scream, as the world passed by in slow motion. "Maybe losing a game isn't that big of a deal when you're coaching an insignificant McKinley High football team; so I should have guessed you would be too stupid to understand; but it's a big deal to me, and I do require some respect from you concerning my work!"

He saw her fall apart, as she looked at him with her blue piercing eyes. "I do respect you Coot," she stuttered, "and I'm sorry, it was insensitive of me."

She was damn right it was insensitive.

He had to start pacing the floor to stop his body from shaking. "And now we're having this sort of discussion," he said angrily, "don't you think you forgot something this morning?"

He recognized the panic in her facial expression. "I don't think so," she answered with a blushing face.

He stepped closer. "Think real hard, Shannon." He could smell her fear, but he couldn't back away now. She had pushed him over the edge.

Her eyes started to wander. "The garbage Shannon," he whispered closing in on her face. "You forgot to go out with the garbage yesterday." He watched as the realization hit her. "Do you know what chicken smells like after 24 hours?" he asked. "IT SMELLS LIKE A DUMB! And how do you think that makes me feel, when I come home, tired and hungry after a long day, and all I can smell is rotten chicken in my house?"

"Coot, I'm sorry," she whispered, "let me make it up to you, I'll make a delicious dinner for us."

He grabbed two plates from the table and crashed them on the floor, where they broke into a thousand pieces. "I don't want your fucking dinner," he shouted, "I want a wife who understands what marriage means, a woman who knows what being in a relationship means. But how can you know? Since I'm the first one who ever wanted you!"

She backed away from him until she was cornered by the wall behind her.

Then he snapped, and disappeared into the abyss of rage, tumbling down to a bottomless whole that sucked all sense out of him. He raised his fist, and hit full power into the wall inches from her face.

_E__xcruciating pain jolted up his arm from his fist by the impact. _He screamed out in pain. "Look what you made me do! It's your own fault; you do know that, right!" Then he grabbed his coat and stormed out. "Don't wait up for me," he mumbled before slamming the door.

He got to the car; just wanted to drive away as fast as he could and never stop.

But you can't drive very far when your sight is blurred by tears.

He pulled over, and when he was sure nobody was watching him, he cried his heart out; didn't know how to stop again. He loved Shannon, more than anything, and he knew she loved him.

The rage disappeared with the tears and when he was done, he felt empty. He had to apologize to Shannon. It was the only way.

Yes, he would buy her some beautiful flowers, and kiss her, and promise her that this would never happen again.

She would forgive him.

She just _had_ to forgive him**.**

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**Please review and tell me what you think...**


	16. Chapter 16

This week's prompt was given by me, and I have struggled with it like crazy! But that's what **Between Friends** is all about; meeting the challenge, right?

Prompt: **If I only knew then what I know now **- write in first person.

I've never written in first person before, and I don't always enjoy reading first person stories - but something is happening in the process, and it's somehow easier to get close to the main character, when you crawl under his/hers skin.

This story is about Puck and Jake, and I hope they continue a storyline about them in canon - because there is so much to explore between those brothers!

* * *

**The brother I never knew  
**

I was standing at McKinley's parking lot, leaning against my car when he came walking with his bag over his shoulder, talking to that Marley girl. But as soon as he spotted me he stopped and gave away a surprised look. He said something to Marley who smiled and gave him a quick hug. She saw in my direction and waved with her fingers, and I gave her a nod, before she walked away.

Jake approached me slowly with his hand buried deep in his pocket, visibly trying to hide the uncertainty in his face. But he shouldn't feel uncertain about his own brother. I smiled at him.

"Hi," he said, still clinching his jaw a bit.

"Hey bro," I said, and pushed myself off of the car.

He bit his lip and nodded. "What's up dude?"

I ran my hand over my short hair. The Mohawk was gone; it didn't really fit anymore, and I realized it made us look more alike. "You wanna go grab a burger somewhere?" I asked, feeling a bit nervous myself.

He shrugged slightly, thinking things through obviously. "Sure," he then said. "Why not?"

_Sure_ is good, I thought relieved. _Sure_ is better than _hell no_, right? "Cool," I said and nodded to the passenger's seat, "get in."

We hadn't really talked that much since we met the first time, but I was determined to get to know him, and I had promised myself to spend time with him whenever I was back in Lima.

"So what are you doing home?" he asked, still seated a bit uncomfortable.

"My mom had some things that needed to be fixed in the house, so I took a couple of days off," I answered.

He cleared his throat. "What's it like cleaning pools in LA?" There was nothing offensive or hostile about his tone of voice, which was progress at least.

"It's cool most of the time," I answered, "but it's also hell of lot work." I smiled at him. "I could sure use some help during holydays and weekends, so if you feel like making some money, you could come visit." I knew I could be stepping out of line right now, but it felt natural?

He laughed and nodded. "Like a _family business_," he said with a "Corleone" imitation.

Now I laughed as well. "The Puckerman dynasty, right."

He smiled at me, "yeah, maybe."

"Just let me know," I said. "I'll pay the plane ticket."

Jake grew silent and toyed with a zipper on his bag. "Dude, do you ever talk to dad?" he finally asked.

My chest tightened a bit by the memory of my last encounter with the man, and I sighed. I hated to break the boy's heart. "Jake, the last time I saw him, he wanted us to drink beer together and then he asked me for money."

"Did you give him any?" Jakes voice was smaller now.

I looked at him quickly and nodded. "I gave him all my savings for the pool cleaning business in LA."

Jake leaned his head back in the seat. "He's such a jerk!"

The kid was right, and I refused to change that picture. "Can I give you an advice?" I asked, as we pulled in to a diner.

"I guess," he mumbled.

"Forget about dad! He's not gonna change. Don't waste your time trying to prove that you're worthy of his love, or of his attention. You're worth so much more than that." Jake kept silent. "A teacher told me this at the end of my senior year," I continued. "I just wish somebody had told me three years earlier – that's all. And that's why I'm telling you now."

"Would you have believed it three years ago?" Jake asked, still not looking at me.

"If I knew then what I know now," I answered.

He sighed. "It's just not that easy is it?"

I smiled at him when he finally made eye contact again. "No, but we are Puckerman's, and we're gonna prove the world wrong – and make us proud about our own name."

Jake expression softened a bit.

I punched him on the shoulder. "You any hungry?"

He snorted. "Always!"

"I remember what that was like," I said and grabbed my wallet.

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As always - tell me what you think ;-)


	17. Chapter 17 Why I hate her!

****This weeks prompt was given to us by StarGleekBelle:

**No one understood how they fell in love, but there was no denying that what they shared was untouchable**

****I'm going back to a pairing I've used before. A relationship no one would have predicted; but for some reason it was just right - **Lauren and Puck**.

**Warning**: This is Santana's POV and we are dealing with her in a very, very bad mood! ;-)

* * *

**Why I hate her!**

_I hate Lauren fucking Zizes! _

_Who does she think she is; looking all bloated and ugly, stuffing her head with chocolate every other minute? She would look absolutely ridiculous in a Cheerios uniform. _

_That could be a plan. To lure her into the lions cave, making her believe she stood a chance in the group, and then attack her. Maybe putting her on top of the pyramid would do it, and then watch her fall. That was an encouraging thought._

_What does he even see in her? He could have whatever chick he wanted, maybe except from Quinn, but still. He used to be **my** man, and he was allowed to stray around, because I knew I could get him back any time I wanted. So why was this so fucking different!_

_It could hardly be about sex. Nobody stood a chance compared to me, all slim and bendy. I have never had a complaint in my life, and I'm proud of that. And she is a wrestler for crying out loud, sweating and breathing heavy. Why did he even care watching her practice!_

_What does she have that I don't? Oversized panties? I snorted by my own wit._

_And why didn't they eat lunch with the rest of us? It was disgusting to see them all tangled up, Puck stealing a kiss from time to time. Maybe I should tell Principal Figgins. Tell him that Puck and Lauren were all over each other, and that it made several students uncomfortable. Okay a sweet little kiss and heart-eyes were hardly all-over-each-other, but if I expressed myself in a certain way, I **could** get them in trouble._

_God, why are they holding hands! She is practically destroying Puck in front of my eyes. Puck is not a holding-hands guy. He is a Mohawk-badass guy! _

_It's not that I'm jealous, just, don't change my man._

_And why is he laughing? What can she possibly say that will make him laugh? I am Queen of the cool hurtful one-liners and funny remarks, not her! Not by a long shot._

"Hi girl." The perky voice made me wince and without looking I knew it was Rachel.

"Can I sit here and eat my lunch?" she asked; and without even waiting for permission she sat down next to me. I moaned a bit. Life was not treating me right today. But I almost forgave her when Brittany came as well, giving me one of her cute smiles, that could last a lifetime.

Rachel started on her salad. "Aww, look at them," she suddenly said pointing at Lauren and Puck. "Puck just seems so happy with her, don't you think?"

_I hate Rachel fucking Berry too!_

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__Sooo - let me know what you think ;-)


	18. Chapter 18 - In this choir room

This week's prompt is from MuseInMe3: **It's 2022, Welcome to McKinley's 10 year High School Reunion.**

With Jen's blessing we were allowed to focus on any kind of reunion and not necessarily on the school reunion.

My one-shot is a preview of a fic I will write next year called "In this choir room". It will be the sequel to another fic called "Why you remind me." - so it will take me a while to get there because I only write one fic at a time - but I WILL get there!

So here you go :-)

* * *

**In this choir room!**

Bread Stix was buzzing with greetings, laugher, and hugs; heartfelt and awkward at the same time. It was a gathering of people who once had made each other grow and feeling wanted. But somehow, along the way, despite all intensions, some of them had lost track of each other again.

Old Glee members kept filing through the door, and every encounter was different depending on personality and track of history between people.

Mercedes suddenly got nervous. Would they listen to her at all? Would this be important enough for them? Would they take the time to be there for each other one more time?

She looked to Kurt and Blaine for help. Blaine read the worries in her eyes and sent her a huge calming smile. "It will be alright," he whispered. "There'll come around."

She nodded, grateful for the encouragement, but not sure if he was right.

Her eyes wandered around the room. Brittany and Santana were goofing around with Artie; both girls seated, so the three friends were at eye level. They lived in opposite parts of the country, Santana and Britt in New York, and Artie in LA, but there was something about their way of interacting that revealed they were comfortable around each other.

Brittany and Santana had their own Arts Program in a ramshackle rental building in Lower East Side of New York; teaching troubled girls to sing and dance. Artie had his own production company with his wife, producing independent movies.

Mercedes eyes moved on to Rachel and Finn. Something about their body language told her their conversation was more strained. Finn now had a faculty degree and worked as a teacher in Lima. He was married and had a three year old son. As far as Mercedes knew from Kurt, he was happy and much more in peace with himself than he had been, struggling in the halls of McKinley.

And Rachel; well Rachel had supposedly achieved her stardom dreams, landing different roles on various Broadway shows. But watching her talking to Finn revealed a vulnerability that didn't quite match the former girl, so sure of herself.

She now caught a glimpse of Mike and Tina. They had lived separate lives for a long time, Mike as a dancer getting hired for big shows, and Tina as a teacher, in charge of her own Glee club; but Mercedes knew they had stayed close friends.

Quinn and Puck came last, happy to see each other and relaxed. Mercedes were pretty close to Puck and Artie, because they all lived in LA. Not that they were hanging out constantly, but they were in touch, and they supported each other whenever it was needed. Puck's younger brother Jake had passed a business degree, and together they were running a pool cleaning company, employing 10 younger guys. Especially a deal with two huge Theme-parks, had made the business booming for the two Puckerman brothers.

Quinn was probably the one Mercedes had lost most contact with. She only knew that Quinn had become a lawyer and worked as a public defender in Chicago, handling cases that no one else wanted, because they weren't profitable enough.

She signaled to Kurt and Blaine. It was time to gather everybody around the table and give them the information they needed before ordering dinner.

She smiled at them. Kurt and Blaine's friendship had been a lifesaver for her when she needed it the most, and she would be forever thankful for what they'd done. Blaine had composed the first song for her that made it to the billboard and more had come after that.

Kurt; well Kurt would always be Kurt.

The first real friend she'd had in High School. Graduating from NYADA had not given him the roles he'd hoped for; and as a result he had started his own company "By Blackbird" with Ally, a Costume Designer he had met through a NYADA assignment. Together with Blaine they wrote musicals, and one had already been sold to a Broadway Show – starring, of course, a certain Kurt Hummel, because the role was perfect for him (for some reason).

The talk and the laugher gradually stopped as Mercedes got up and demanded their attention. It was the day before Thanksgiving; an obvious possibility to have them all come, since most of them still had families in Lima.

"Thank you so much for being here today," Mercedes said with a shy smile. "So many people that I hold dear to my heart at one place, that's just amazing." She cleared her throat and played with the back of the chair in front of her. "We once meant a lot to each other, and even though being misfits were the one thing that glued us together in the first place, I think we can all agree that it grew into so much more."

The faces around the table looked at her with warm smiles. Mercedes continued. "Kurt, you ones said: _In this choir room, it doesn't matter if you're gay or straight. What matters is that we're friends._ I hope this is still true."

She paused to be sure she had their full attention. "We have a friend who needs us at this time in his life." She bit her lip and tried to control the shake of her voice. "Sam is in trouble; more trouble than he can handle, and he needs our help."

She locked eyes with each and one of them. "Will you be there for him," she asked, "the same way he has been there for you when you needed him?"

* * *

I know, I know; it's a shitty way to end it, but as I said, it's just a preview. ;-)

Please review.


	19. Chapter 19

This weeks prompt was given by GleekMom. It was short and good: **"It was hate at first sight".**

I needed to write about someone new. And there she was; begging me to give you a glimpse of her story. ;-)

* * *

**The Poison She Takes**

She ones read that _**housing bitterness in your heart is like taking poison and believe it will hurt somebody else.**_

But that was not true; how could it be? She knew she could make somebody else hurt. It was an ability she had refined to its highest level over the years.

She would never go after the boys. They could be toyed with until they were crumbling on the floor rambling for her attention. No, she always sought out the girls. The girls who stepped into her dance studio, blue eyed and ready to let their pathetic suburban mediocre talent shine; believing they had a shot at making it to Broadway.

She was merely doing them a favor after all. The reality check could be cruel, but it was her guilty pleasure to give them just that. Calling it a guilty pleasure was stretching it a bit though. It was _all_ her pleasure; the highlight of her day sometimes.

She would usually spot them within ten minutes of intimidating pressure on the dance floor. It would not be the girls pushing themselves up against the bar in a poor attempt of being invisible. It would be the ones bold enough to look her in the eyes, believing they could meet her demands.

She would circle them as a spider spotting her prey, and then she would make a skin attack; just to measure their strength. The real attack would come later, when they thought they could match her.

So there she was, little Ms Schwimmer, just the fitting prey for the semester. Cassie knew who she was; had already heard the stories about how the pathetic little wanna-be had harassed Carmen Tibideaux for a second audition.

That was ridiculously unheard of!

Why should this second class girl from Iowa, or whatever, with her sloppy pirouettes and terrible posture get a second chance? There was no such thing as a second chance in this world. Wasn't she the living proof of that?

Where was Cassie's second chance after she had made a minor misstep? Wasn't she still being punished for one little outburst against the audience?

That was why she refused to call little Ms Schwimmer by her real name, even though she knew it very well, because Cassie would make sure she would never _be_ a name in New York.

The dance teacher slumped down on her couch feeling the alcohol dull her edgy nerves. The trick with Brody would do it, and she couldn't have asked for a better timing than Ms Schwimmer calling at that particular point. She couldn't have staged it better herself. Now the girl would crumble for sure, believing that Brody had thought she was something special.

The poison would work.

But if the scheme was such a success, then why was she feeling so god damn miserable and lonely? She poured up another drink; knew she would soon reach the point of drinking the numbness right out of the bottle instead.

She was good.

She was untouchable.

Such a shame that little Ms Schwimmer couldn't say the same thing about herself.

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Please review ;-)


	20. Chapter 20

This is an IOU and I will get back to that chapter when I have the time …

Sooorryyy ;-)


	21. Chapter 21

This week I gave the prompt. It was very simple, but hard to write ;-) **Write a cliff-hanger**

****My one-shot is connected to a multi chaptered fic I'm currently writing, but haven't published yet. So I need to give a quick background for this setup.

Kurt and Blaine never got together after the break up and things were never settled between them. They lose track of each other when Blaine decides to go to college in Chicago instead of New York. Kurt graduates from NYADA, but the classical Broadway roles don't suit him and he stays unemployed. Together with a costume designer, Ally, whom he met during a NYADA project, he starts a company named "By Blackbird". They are now writing a musical together, with a lead that would fit Kurt perfectly.

Kurt has been in New York 5 years.

* * *

**How you remind me**

"Have you received any new submissions from song-writers today?" Kurt asked, reaching out for his glasses before he could scan his own incoming e-mails.

Ally threw the rest of her apple in the trashcan and wiped her hands in a napkin. "Yes, I actually have." She touched the mouse to bring her computer back to life, "twenty eight submissions to be accurate."

"Really?" Kurt asked and stared at her over the rim of his glasses.

"Yes," she said with a smile, "and I bet the perfect composer to write our songs will be amongst them."

Kurt shrugged. "We'll see about that," he replied dryly. He felt a head ache sneaking up on him. He refused to compromise on the issue. He had rejected a lot of composers, and even some promising ones, just because it hadn't felt right. "Look Ally, it's more than talent, we both know that," he reminded her. She just nodded as he rubbed his temples. "It has to be someone we like, and someone we trust with our dream."

"And I'm sure we'll find just the right person," Ally added. She walk around the tables and sat on his desk. "This will work Kurt." She nudged his foot with her shoe. "We're going to write this amazing musical, with these fantastic songs, and we're going to sell it to an off-Broadway theater, and we _will_ succeed."

Kurt met her green eyes with gratitude and he nudged her foot back. Expensive Italian leather meeting orange tied up boots made of a questionable material. He smiled at her. "I promise I will keep an open mind."

"You do?" she asked seriously.

He winked at her. "I promise."

She jumped down from his desk again and went to the two boards hanging on the wall in their office. The first board contained the storyline. Not in a neat chronologic from-A-to-B kind of way, more like this-is-beyond-brainstorming-even-though-it-still-looks-like-it.

She hummed. "A song-writer would not know what to make of this twirled around story anyway. We should start making the hard decisions. I mean, at least sort out the first couple of scenes and then go from there."

Kurt got up and tucked in the sleeves of his shirt before he joined her. "I agree," he said and took the board in view. It was pinned up with post-it's, little pieces of paper, a napkin,(don't ask), and several long descriptions of characters, from the lead to the smallest extra.

The second board was completely empty, divided in two, one for the first part of the play, and the other for the second part. This board was meant for the real thing. When a note about a person, or a scene, or a song went to the blank board it had to make chronological sense.

"I'll try to get some headliners on the final board today," Kurt said with crossed arms. It was an intimidating process and he realized he had been putting it off for a while. Everybody could do a brainstorm and have different ideas, but it took some talent to make it into a play.

Behind him Ally began to listen to the different song submissions, as he started to look out for the bigger lines in the play. The climax had to be in part two, so he moved everything connected to that scene to the second half on the final board. From there he would build the settings around that particular scene.

So far none of the submissions Ally had been playing had really caught his attention. A lot of the songs people had written seemed unpolished. Besides, writing a couple of songs could not really be compared to writing 10 – 12 songs, all connected to a story line.

Kurt was lost in a detail about the lead characters introduction in the middle of scene one, when the room suddenly vibrated with a familiar voice. He froze in his motion and just listened with every fiber in his body.

He would have recognized that voice among thousands of voices. The deep soft base mixed with a more raw unpolished higher pitch that made it unique and complex.

Kurt closed his eyes and listened to the lyrics and caught the nature and temper of the melody; the rise and fall of the voice that pulled him back to something that had made his world complete 5 years ago.

"Wow, are you listening to this, Kurt?" Ally pulled him right back to reality with her excitement.

Kurt managed to center himself again before answering. "Yes," he said softly, "I'm listening."

"He is good, Kurt, and it's a beautiful song," she stated, "by far the best we've heard! Let me just check out who he is."

He could hear her tap away on her computer as the song continued in the background.

Kurt let the vibration in his soul settle before he turned around and looked at her. "His name is Blaine Anderson," he said and tried to make the world stop spinning. The engagement ring on his finger suddenly felt heavier than a rock.


	22. Chapter 22 The balance of life

This weeks prompt was given to us by FicDirectory: **"You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with."**

****Just a little Kurt Hummeling ;-)

* * *

**The balance of life**

Kurt's cheek was still wet after Rachel's impromptu goodbye kiss, and when she was out of sight he dried the kiss off with his glove. She was going to meet Brody and Kurt had nothing better to do than to return to the loft.

He decided to walk a few stations before catching the metro. The weather was fine and certain things in his mind needed to be processed anyway.

More than 8 million people lived in the city that never sleeps. He was finally living out his dream and the goals he have had was within reach. Then why did he suddenly feel so alone and so lost?

He watched the faces walking by, wondering if other people's lives were missing something too, but they just never stopped up long enough to realize it.

His eyes had always been on the things ahead of him, never on the things he left behind; never on the _friends_ he'd left behind. But lately he had gotten aware of the meaning of every single one of those friendships.

He loved Rachel, he really did, and he had come to her rescue when she had ended up alone in New York, but who was there to rescue him?

Rachel was not enough. His dreams were not the same as hers, and what seemed right for her was not necessarily right for him.

He couldn't help chuckling there in the middle of the street, because he still could only take Rachel in small doses, and that suddenly amused him.

Back in Lima there had been friends balancing her out. There was Finn, who in his dorkyness still would have his back at any time. There was Mercedes, who was the first friend he'd ever had, and who still would be there whenever he needed her. There was Sam, who had turned out to be the bigger gentleman of them all, and who never had thought twice about their friendship. There was even Santana, who could push all his red buttons, but still respected him for who he was.

And there was Blaine … always Blaine. Even though he might only be a shadow at the moment, and even though the hole in Kurt's heart was still bleeding and throbbing, it was still Blaine; with his support and his love, despite what had happened between them.

Kurt felt the lump in his throat. He missed them all. How could he not have predicted this?

He stopped in his tracks for awhile and took a deep breath. Well, they were not here now. Their friendships would always be a part of him, but they were not here now. He needed new friendships.

The different encounters with Adam played in the back of his mind. Adam didn't define him by his past, he had only seen Kurt, and that had been such a relief. His plié shouldn't be defined by Blaine's dancing skills; and his choices for extracurricular activities should not be defined by Rachel's dreams, or her warnings.

Kurt's step caught some bounce. He was _not_ his past. He was _not_ his relationships, or somebody else's dream.

He was him.

He was Kurt Hummel.

And Kurt Hummel felt like asking Adam out for coffee.

* * *

Kadam for friendship - Klaine for eternity ;-)


	23. Chapter 23

****Prompt time - yaay! This time given to us by **pi-on-a-skateboard**

**"Can you imagine.."**

****This is a Sam story, connected to season two ;-)

* * *

**Can you imagine?**

"Stacey, get down from the bed," Sam shouted as he went through the suitcase to find her pj's. "You're not supposed to jump in the bed, and you know it!"

The little girl brushed her blonde hair away from her face and laughed. "Then make me come down," she dared him with a tease.

Sam squinted and raised his arms into two giant claws. "You will regret this Stacey Evan's," he said with a monster voice, as he chased his sister around the small motel room.

Stacey screamed of joy and let herself get wrapped into her brothers tickling arms. "Help me, Stevie," she gasped from laugher. "There is a huge Sam-monster eating me."

Sam heard the new attacker right behind him and waited for the ambush. The younger brother tackled him by jumping up on Sam's back and blindfolding him with his bare hands.

_Sam the monster_ was doomed. Through the secret powers of Stevie and Stacey, he was defeated.

Ten minutes later, after several excuses and a lot of whining both children were in their pj's with brushed teeth, ready to sleep. Sam always let them fall asleep in the master bed, then he would carry them down on the mattresses on the floor before going to bed himself.

Sam lied down with them and tucked them closer. "Is there anything special we need to remember in our prayers today?" he asked.

Stevie raised his hand. "That dad will get a new job," he said.

Sam kissed his brother on the hair. "We will pray about that. Then he turned at looked at Stacey. "What about you, munchkin, anything special?"

The little girl put her head on his chest. "I think we should pray for Sarah's hamster, because he died yesterday, and now Sarah is super sad, because Peter says there is no such thing as a hamster heaven."

Sam bit his lip. It would be a horrible thing to laugh right now. "Well Peter can't really know for sure, can he?" Sam asked, "unless he was a dead hamster."

"How can you know for sure about things you cannot see?" Stevie now added. "What if there isn't even a heaven for people."

Sam cleared his throat, where was mom when he needed her most?

"Um," he started, searching for the right way to do this. "When I believe in things I cannot see, I just use my imagination."

"Like how?" Stacey asked frowning.

"Let's see," Sam said. "I believe in heaven, but until I'm really there I just have to imagine what it will be like."

"What do you think it will be like?" Stevie asked, crawling a bit closer like his sister.

"I imagine …. that there will be a lot of music and thousands and thousands of instruments. Beautiful golden instruments that we have never seen before her on earth, but somehow everybody just knows how to play them. And everybody will play their favorite music at the same time, and it will still sound awesome."

Stacey hummed next to him. "I wanna play a pink melody, then."

"I bet it will be pretty," Sam said smiling. "What do you imagine, Stacey?"

"I imagine …. that there will be these huge swings in heaven; and when I swing on them they will take me way up into the clouds and make it tickle in my stomach." She laughed just thinking about it.

"That would be fun," Sam chimed in. "What about you, buddy?" he asked and squeezed his brother's shoulder.

Stevie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I imagine …. that there will be a big dragon in heaven, living in a cage of gold and diamonds; and it would be a super dangerous dragon, with fire coming out of its mouth, but it wouldn't hurt me, because we would be like best friends."

"Whoa," Sam replied, "that would be so cool to have a dragon as a best friend. What color would it be?"

"It would be a rainbow dragon, so it would be all kinds of colors, just not too much pink or purple," the boy added.

Sam sighed. "You see, it's not so hard to believe in things we cannot see."

Half an hour later, when both kids were fast asleep in Sam's arms, and the room was covered in darkness, he whispered; "I imagine … a life where dad has a job, and where mom doesn't have to worry about a thing."

* * *

You should know my weakness for this part of Sam's story line by now. I just **had** to go there again ;-)

As always, please review...


	24. Chapter 24 - Let her go

Prompt given to us by MuseInMe3: **What happens when all the current and former members of ND attend Will and Emma's wedding on Valentine's day ...**

This was a challenge because of all the spoilers going around for this episode, but this is my take on a blank spot, I hope.

* * *

**Let her go…**

Santana nursed her drink in a foul mood. She hated weddings, and she hated this one in particular. Her eyes kept sweeping over the dance floor. Sam and Brittany were slow dancing, like the world didn't exist around them. But _she_ existed, and she didn't deserve to be treated like this.

Enough was enough.

She bottomed her drink and put the glass down on the table with a loud thud. With confident steps she headed for the intertwined couple when a tuck in her arm stopped her on her tracks. She turned around and looked furious at the person who dared to stop her.

She was met with Mercedes' firm stare.

"Don't do it, Santana!" Mercedes said, with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't do what?" Santana snapped, and pulled her arm out of Mercedes' firm grip.

"Don't interrupt them. Let them have this dance," she answered calmly.

Santana felt the blood rise to her cheeks. "You have _no_ right to tell me what to do."

"That is true, but it is my duty, as a friend, to stop you from making a fool out of yourself."

"Excuse me?" Santana crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm not making a fool out of myself, I'm fighting for the girl I love, and I have _every_ right to do that. And for your information she is only with Sam to make me jealous. She could have had _anybody_, but Sam of all people; that is just ridiculous!"

Mercedes placed her hands on her hips and put on a bitch face Santana had forgotten she had.

"Santana, are you seriously saying that Britt is manipulative? That this is her way of getting back at you?" The girl squinted. "Brittany wouldn't know _how_ to manipulate anybody. She needs to be _saved_ from manipulative people, because she would never recognize it for what it was."

Santana looked at her friend with a heaving chest, not sure how to shoot back this time.

"Look at her!" Mercedes said more softly.

Santana reluctantly gazed at the couple on the floor. Brittany was resting her head on Sam's chest. Her eyes were closed and a soft smile played on her beautiful lips. Santana swallowed hard.

"What do you see?" Mercedes asked, and when Santana didn't answer, she continued. "She's happy. She is with someone who understands her and who can protect her. It doesn't matter if you live in Kentucky or New York; you can't be there for her the way Sam can."

Santana blinked hard to prevent the tears from falling. "Can you honestly say it doesn't bother you to see them together?" she then asked when her voice could be trusted again. "You were in love with _him_, weren't you?"

Mercedes sighed and took one last look at dance floor. "The thing is that Sam was there for me when I needed him the most, and I will be forever thankful for that. But I _had_ to let him go, and I think you should do the same thing for Brittany."

Santana bit her lip. "But it hurts so much."

"I know sweetie," Mercedes said and rubbed her friend's back. "I know."

* * *

So ... I almost didn't write about Sam ;-)


	25. Chapter 25 - For What It's Worth

****Prompt given by GleekMom******: **DM the person who prompts after you your LEAST favorite relationship pairing. Take that pairing and make them fall in love with it.

For me this meant that I had to write about Different Child's least favorite relationship pairing, and her choice was **Kurtbastian**.

So this one is for Kate!

We could either write about romance or friendship, and since it would literally hurt to write Kurtbastian romance I settled for friendship.

This takes place a few weeks after Wemma's not-wedding.

* * *

**For What It's Worth**

"God, it looks like somebody has been trying to rearrange your meerkat face," Kurt said and leaned over the beaten up man resting against the brick wall outside Scandals. He had recognized Sebastian the minute he had passed by in his car on his way back home after hanging out with Blaine.

Sebastian pressed his hand against a wound next to his left eye, but blood keep seeping through his fingers. "Oh, it's you Lady Face," he huffed out through swollen lips. "What are you doing in Lima? I thought you of all people would escape."

"Well I'm just visiting, but I guess I could ask you the same question? Weren't you supposed to be exchange student in London or Paris?" Kurt grabbed a fresh pack of tissues from his pocket and took a closer look at Sebastian's injuries. He had taken a bad blow to the jaw and one more close to the eye, but it was hard to tell how hurt he really was because of the bleeding.

"It was Paris, dweeb head, and it didn't work out. Try to pay attention to my future plans!"

Kurt shook his head at Sebastian's poor attempt of insulting him. "You really have to be in pain if that's the best you can come up with." Kurt gently removed Sebastian's hand from the injured eye and pressed a couple of tissues firmly against the wound. Then he led Sebastian's hand back up to keep the tissues in place as he loosened his own tie and started to wrap it around Sebastian's head.

"Are you undressing for me Hummel?" Sebastian said with a sharp hiss, obviously in pain.

"Undressing for you?" Kurt asked drily. "Never; too much blood on you for my liking. He could see how Sebastian struggled to shoot back at him, but he only managed to give a weak smile in return. "What happened in there anyway," Kurt asked and nodded towards the bar. "Somebody didn't like your sense of humor?"

Sebastian snorted this time. "Something like that," he answered, and tried to get up on his feet; but he was swaying dangerously, and Kurt had to catch him, and put his shoulder underneath Sebastian's arm to stabilize him.

"Are we dancing?" Sebastian asked, short of breath.

"Sure, if dancing means getting you to the hospital," Kurt answered.

Sebastian froze up next to Kurt. "No, please," he said, suddenly sounding sober and sincere. "If I could just get you to call a cap, I'd appreciate it. I just need to sleep it out."

For the first time Kurt got worried. "Look Sebastian, this will not magically go away as you sleep. It will hurt like shit in the morning, and your wounds could end up all kinds of infected."

"Kurt," Sebastian breathed out begging. "I don't wanna go to the hospital, please."

"Okay," Kurt sighed; "I will give you _one_ other option." Sebastian nodded and listened carefully. "We can go home to my place and get you cleaned up. My stepmom is a nurse and she's got this ass-kicking first aid box. Let me at least check up on your eye, and put some bandage on you." Sebastian didn't look too crazy about the idea. "I'll drive you home as soon as you're patched up," Kurt added.

"Okay," Sebastian finally moaned; "just to keep a smile on that beautiful gay face of yours."

"Thank you," Kurt said with an eye roll. He reminded himself to call Blaine as soon as they reached the car. He had promised to call when he got home.

With Sebastian safely seated at the passenger's side, he quickly texted Blaine before jumping into the car, and heading home.

Burt was off to bed and Carol had a late shift, so she wouldn't be home for hours. Kurt found the first aid box and hoped he could do something to ease Sebastian's pain. He found a chair for Sebastian and started to clean up the wounds carefully.

"So are you and Blaine still broken up?" Sebastian asked with a strained face.

Kurt tried to stay focused on his task. It looked like the eye was uninjured but the brow had a pretty big gash. "Yes," he finally answered. "We're still broken up, but we are best friends, so don't try any funny business!"

Sebastian huffed out a laugh. "I won't, that was a lost cost from the moment I laid eyes on Blaine anyway."

"Meaning what?" Kurt asked as he sterilized the wound the best way he could.

"Meaning that you and Blaine are so fucking adorable together that it's sickening."

The words in themselves could have been offending, but there was something about the way Sebastian said it that got to Kurt.

"Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome."

Kurt found bandage and patches and kept working with Sebastian's face for a while. When he was done Sebastian suddenly grabbed his hand and kept it for a while.

"Don't let Blaine go," he said and locked eyes with Kurt. "Fight for what you have together. That's all I'm saying."

Kurt held his breath without realizing it.

"And thank you, for everything you have done for me tonight," Sebastian continued softly, before he let go of Kurt's hand again.

"You're welcome," Kurt said and breathed out with a smile.

* * *

So maybe I snug a bit of Klaine in here, but I'm sure you can forgive me.

Now I'm just waiting for reviews - especially Kate's ;-)


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